


Different Colors

by jencsi



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jencsi/pseuds/jencsi
Summary: When Julie needs some help after her coma, a surprise source of comfort helps her feel normal again.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Different Colors

“What are we doing here?” she asked from the passenger seat, lifting her head from where she rested it tiredly against the window. Upon seeing the Russell’s property looming in front of her, she felt testy and irritated because all she wanted to do was go home and sleep. Sleep was the only thing she craved since being allowed to leave the hospital after the doctor deemed her recovered enough from her coma. The bed was the most soothing place to be, when she was asleep, her mind was numb, and she didn’t have to process the agony of the trauma she went through. Not that it mattered. She survived, that was good enough, and Winthrop was in jail, he would never see the light of day again. All should have been right in the world. 

Yet it wasn’t. Sleeping all day in a dark room with the curtains drawn to block out sunlight while the rest of the world bustled around her was not normal. Just sitting up to eat and drink the small meals Nick brought her consumed all her energy. She could see the look of concern on his face every time she weakly lifted the spoon to her mouth and barely took any bites of food. She could see the worry in his eyes when she slumped back against the pillows, exhausted, after eating what little she could. Quiet phone calls to Dr. King after she fell asleep yielded him unsure answers, every coma patient was different, there were not enough survivors to determine what was normal and what wasn’t. As long as there are no headaches or dizziness, let her be. If anything changes, bring her in. 

She knew Nick loved her, and she loved him. But this was straining their time together. She didn’t want to be the ill, incapacitated one and she didn’t want him caring for her like some helpless being. Yet he stood by her with every twist and turn this recovery brought. So, on a sunny day, he tried something different. He lured her out of bed and into the car for a ride to get some fresh air. Now, with the car stopped outside Russell’s house, she knew he had ulterior motives. 

“They just want to visit with you,” Nick explained to her. 

“I’m tired Nicky,” she complained, piercing him with a heavy, tired gaze. 

“Just for a few minutes,” he promised her. 

He helped her out of her side of the car and up the walkway to the front door. When he knocked, Russell answered almost immediately, as he had been expecting them. 

“Hey,” he greeted “good to see you both, come on in.”  
He moved aside, letting them in to the foyer. Julie clung to Nick, her legs wanting to give out from under her, but she fought the tiredness because she had missed talking and working with Russell. 

“Hey Jules,” he said quietly. 

“Hey,” she murmured back. 

“Oh, good you’re here!” Barbara’s voice suddenly erupted into their space. 

She squeezed past everyone to reach Julie. She held her face in her hands as she said, “Hi honey, how are you feeling?” sweeping her hair back to look into her tired eyes. 

“Tired,” Julie complained to her, feeling safe to do so after all the years of knowing her and being cared for by her and Russell when she was feeling sick or down. 

“Nicky told us,” Barbara revealed, and Julie had a hunch they already knew she was struggling “but I wanted you to come over because I think I have something fun for us to do that might make you feel better, will you let me show you?” 

“Okay I guess,” Julie said lifting her head from Nick’s shoulder to follow Barbara as she guided her down the hallway. She didn’t even have the energy to look back and see if Nick and D.B were following her. Barbara took her to one of the farther rooms down the hall and opened the door. Inside, she saw easels, blank canvases, paint kits and brushes, smocks and gloves, various other art related tools on a wood bench. The windows had no curtains so they could see right outside to the view of the backyard where there were trees and a garden, inspiration. This was Barbara’s painting room. 

“Here we go,” Barbara said guiding Julie over to a stool and a blank canvas. She handed her a smock and pushed a table of brushes and paint over to her. Before Julie could protest, she had tied the smock around her waist to protect her clothes. She reached up and grabbed at her hair, tying it back in a loose ponytail, letting some strands fall against her face. Barbara did the same to herself before settling down on her stool in front of her canvas. 

“All right let’s get started,” she announced.  
“But I can’t do it,” Julie protested “I mean, I’m not any good at drawing.” 

“That means nothing in art honey,” Barbara insisted, although Julie was pretty sure it had everything to do with art. She wasn’t knocked stupid after that coma. 

“But, what should I make?” Julie asked now, feeling overwhelmed with this task. 

“Anything you want dear,” Barbara said confidently “whatever’s in your heart.”

Julie stood there, stunned, watching as Barbara picked up the brush, dipping it into some paint and beginning to move it across the canvas, slow, delicate, with ease. She watched one line turn in to several and eventually form shapes and recognizable landmarks, mountains, a flow of water, trees, grass. Julie was mesmerized by the motions, how easy and natural it all seemed to Barbara. She knew she had been painting for years and her beautiful work lined the house, but she had never really thought about how she actually made it. Barbara noticed Julie had not even started to paint on her canvas, so she turned back to her and said, “What’s wrong dear?” 

“Nothing, it’s just, that’s so beautiful,” Julie praised her “can you teach me?”

Barbara smiled, put down her brush and said, “Sure.”

She abandoned her work and went to Julie who had settled on top of the stool at last. Barbara handed her a paint brush then held her wrist as she dipped it into the small jar of paint, wiping the drips off the side before lifting her hand to the canvas. Slowly, they worked together, making the brush move in all directions, up, down, left, right, swirling, tapping, forming shapes with ease. Julie felt her mind start to focus solely on the painting and what is was becoming. Barbara kept her hand on top of Julie’s as they worked, the pressure and warmth comforted her. She no longer felt that tremble that had accompanied her since waking up from the coma. 

“See how easy it is?” Barbara said after helping her complete a few brush strokes “why don’t you try it.”

She let go of Julie’s hand so she could move freely on her own. Julie bit her lip as she concentrated on what to paint next. She mixed colors, drew random patterns on the canvas, stole glances at Barbara to see how she was doing a technique then tried to mimic her hand movements. The entire process was giving her something to focus on and it made her feel alert for the first time in days. Soon, it was all she could focus on. She had covered every inch of the canvas with some sort of paint, wild colors like purple and orange, shapes, designs, patterns. Anything that she saw in her mind and what was around her. She scooted her chair forward to be closer to the canvas, little specks of paint sticking to her cheeks as it dripped and splattered around her. Barbara smiled, having accomplished what she wanted to with her, getting her to think about anything other than the coma. 

“Do you have any more orange?” Julie asked her, making a sad face as she held up the empty jar where orange had been full only moments ago. 

“On the bench dear,” Barbara said, nodding to the large supply of colors she had stored there. Julie’s eyes grew wide as she selected not only more orange but a magenta color, a bright blue, a soft gray and a bright red. She carried her stack of paint back to her workstation, setting each one down on her table with care, unscrewing each lid slowly and dipping clean brushes into each jar, stacking them together to make a rainbow of colors and a squiggly pattern across the entire canvas. Barbara got immersed in watching her work now, pleased with her progress and overjoyed at how excited she was. 

Time vanished around them both as they worked. Before she knew it, the canvas was completely covered, and she had run out of ideas of what to add to it. She stood there admiring her work, tilting her head to the side, loving how the colors splashed together so wildly. 

“That’s beautiful Jules,” Barbara praised her, having come around to see her work, wiping her hands on a towel. 

“You think so?” Julie asked worriedly. 

“Art is what you make it,” Barbara reminded her, reaching up with a clean fabric towel now and wiping away at the smudges of orange and blue paint on Julie’s cheeks. 

“Look at you, trying to give yourself more freckles,” she teased her and Julie could not hide her smile. 

“Can we show Nicky and DB now?” she asked eagerly. 

“I think so,” Barbara said, continuing to wipe the paint off Julie’s face, lifting her chin up with one finger towards the light to see if she missed any spots. Her eyes landed on a jagged scar on her neck, most likely from the doctors hurried efforts to save her life all those months ago on that horrific night. Julie could sense her looking so she turned her head away feeling ashamed. 

“Sorry sweetie,” Barbara apologized. 

“It’s okay,” Julie said truthfully “they don’t hurt, you know, the scars.”

Barbara knew she was referring to more than one, how they were hidden under her chin, at her hairline, across her cheek, and many more that she could not see, on her arms and legs, her back, her sides, the bastard had done damage everywhere he could reach on her poor, defenseless, innocent body and soul. When Barbara looked again at Julie’s painting, she realized what all the colorful lines and scribbles were really all about. 

“That’s what you painted isn’t it?” she dared to ask.

“Yeah,” Julie admitted avoiding her gaze “but it’s a good thing, it means I survived, and nothing can break me.”

“You are absolutely right,” Barbara praised her of her strength and resilience “come on, lets go show the boys.” 

They called for Nick and Russell to come and see what they made. Julie stopping Nick out in the hall so she could cover his eyes and surprise him. She bounced as she walked, energized once again, proud of what she had accomplished. 

“No peeking,” she teased Nick who promised not to. 

Once safe in front of the canvases, Julie uncovered Nick’s eyes, clapping her hands together as she watched him look over the painting. 

“Wow,” he said, “that’s a lot of orange.”  
Julie giggled; happy he noticed the color she used the most. 

“These look great,” Russell praised them both. 

“It was so much fun!” Julie remarked, delighted of how happy the process made her feel. 

“That’s what we wanted for you,” Nick said now of his desire to see her back to her normal self again. 

“Thank you,” Julie added to Barbara who had provided her with the extra guidance and support she needed. 

“We know it’s been tough,” Russell added “but we love you Jules, we want to do everything we can to make you feel better again.”

“And if you’re too tired to stay for dinner, we understand,” Barbara finished by leaving that offer on the table. 

“Can we stay?” Julie asked Nick now “I feel a lot better.”

“Of course,” he agreed, happy to see her this way. 

“Perfect,” Barbara said reaching out to Julie now “come with me, I want to show you what I worked on when you were in the hospital, and I got you some paint and canvases and brushes to take home for later.”

Julie gushed over the gift that awaited her. She and Barbara continued to discuss paintings and art the rest of the afternoon, reading from different books, admiring the work Barbara finished during Julie’s time in the hospital. 

“Thanks again,” Nick said to Russell as they watched Barbara and Julie combing through the art books “she really needed this.”

“She means the world to Barbara and me,” he said, “she’s like another kid, we can’t help but want her to feel better when she’s hurting.” 

“I guess I better make an art room back home for her,” Nick joked of all the supplies Barbara had for Julie. 

“Yeah good idea,” Russell agreed “but uh, put down lots of newspaper.” 

They exchanged smiles, both knowing just how messy Julie could be, given the opportunity.


End file.
